Elizabeth Pickering
Everything is Possible
So here you are, light
Yet there is nothing dazzling here
Only a child wrapped in swaddling clothes
His hands tremble, as branches-in-the-wind
He does not speak, even though
He is the word.
His eyes are closed.
His spirit does not see
Any scriptures to fulfil.
Does the light of God
Truly rise from weakness
So here you are
Light, yet it’s dark here
This place is for beasts
And for those seeking refuge
Against cold and fear
It is a poor environment
And no one here is judged
By appearances
It is open to those who seek refuge.
Into the night
Page(s) 13
magazine list
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- 14
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- Ambit
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- Cannon's Mouth, The
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- Lamport Court
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- Paper, The
- Pen Pusher Magazine
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- Poetry London (1951)
- Poetry Nation
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- Poetry Salzburg Review
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- Private Tutor
- Purple Patch
- Quarto
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- Review, The
- Rialto, The
- Second Aeon
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- Shearsman
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- Staple
- Strange Faeces
- Tabla Book of New Verse, The
- Thumbscrew
- Tolling Elves
- Ugly Tree, The
- Weyfarers
- Wolf, The
- Yellow Crane, The